Wait and See
by Jhost
Summary: In 2045, the Union Aerospace Corporation's facility fell under attack by an unknown enemy force. This is the fragmented story of the attack as written by the survivors.
1. The Seventh Incident

**DOOM 3**

By: Jason Robertson

Prologue: The Seventh Incident

And what Jakes didn't want to happen did happen. He fumbled clumsily with his wrench as he tried to stick it between the set of closely grouped conduits, and then dropped it.

He watched in a mixture of aggravation and surprise as his wrench clanged loudly all the way down to the bottom of the maintenance shaft, the echoes of his mistake still ringing in his ears. Only after he heard the wrench hit the bottom of the shaft did he mutter, "Goddamn it." He tried to find a way to scratch the back of his bald head in the extremely narrow crawlspace. He hated working double shifts at night. He could never think straight. And, above all, it meant he had to work with Gibson. "Hey!" he called back up the shaft, pulling on his safety harness. No response except for the flickering light panels and silently hissing pipes that lined the shaft all the way to the bottom. _Great. _Jakes fumed silently. _The fat old butterball probably went to get another snack._ "Gibson!"

Then he heard a shuffling. "Mm-hm, yeah?" came the languid response of his partner. "What?"

"I dropped my wrench again. They've got the goddamned power converters spaced too closely in this t-junction." Jakes called up the shaft, listening to his own voice echo through the shaft.

"Jakes, I don't want to be here all night—" Gibson griped.

"And you think that I do?" Jakes shot back. "The sooner you get off your fat ass and reel me back up the shaft, the sooner you can go back to bed!"

"Why don't you just lower yourself down the shaft and get the one you dropped? Parker has been awfully pissy lately about us leaving tools in the workspace." Gibson offered.

"And since when do you care what Parker thinks?"

"Since I got promoted to supervisor of this sector." Gibson retorted. "I'm here to make sure you do your job."

Jakes growled. The fat bastard had been bragging about that one all week although there were rumors going around that the only reason he got promoted was because he could no longer fit into the crawlspaces. But Jakes kept his mouth shut, and waited for Gibson to start lowering him down. He heard the squeak of the winch, and then—"Ah!" Jakes exclaimed as the winch jolted and he started dropping rapidly the shaft. But before Jakes could even think to panic, he was brought to a suddenly halt as Gibson got control of the device.

"Sorry!" Gibson called down. "This thing's not very well maintained."

_Neither are you. _Jakes thought as he was slowly lowered to the bottom of the shaft. While he was being lowered, he reached into his yellow maintenance jumpsuit for his flashlight. He turned on the high-powered light, and pointed it downwards. He leaned around his harness, and looked. Yeah, he could see on the metal grating some ten feet below him, but no wrench. "Give me about eight feet of slack!" Jakes called up as his feet touched the bottom of the shaft. He listened to his voice echo: _"Slack! Ack…ack…"_

There was no response. He shrugged, and got down on his hands and knees. It was a bit wider down here, so he had room to crawl around. He crawled to the nearest pipe, and stuck his hand under it. No wrench. He slid his hand back out and turned around. It had to be around here somewhere. He shined his flashlight in the opposite direction down a long, dark electrical line marker. He started crawling towards it. Before he even got five feet, he saw the blood red glint of the handle of his wrench. He grabbed it, and carefully stuck it in his jumpsuit. Then he looked back up the lighted shaft. "Hey, I've got it!" he called back up the shaft. No response again. "Gibson!" he called again. Still silence. "Hey, fat-ass!" he called louder. And there was still no reply. Jakes growled to himself. Great, he was stuck down here. Again. "I'm filing a report as soon as I get back." he muttered.

_"Over here." _he heard a voice call from down the electrical wiring tunnel. It was a man's voice. Jakes turned around and shined his flashlight down the tunnel. He couldn't see anyone. _"Please."_ the voice continued. _"We don't have much time."_

"Is someone down there?" Jakes called. _"There…there…there…?" _his voice echoed. There was no response. The hairs on the back of his neck started to prickle. "Hey!" he called. _"Hey…hey…hey…"_

And then he heard a whistling sound come down the shaft. His head snapped up just in time to see his broken safety line tumble to the bottom of the shaft right at his feet. He looked up the shaft again with his flashlight, and thought he heard a shuffling noise come from the top of the shaft.

_"And lead us not into temptation…" _The disembodied voice returned, but now it was all around Jakes. He turned around, shining his flashlight in every direction. No one. _"But deliver us…"_

And that's when Jakes heard the growling. At first he thought it was a power line. But it was too clicky to be a power line. The next sound he heard was a clanging noise that was distant at first. But it got closer and closer. And it was coming down the electrical wiring tunnel.

He turned around slowly and shined his light down the tunnel again. Still nothing. _"From evil…please deliver us, Almighty Father…who art in Heaven…"_the voice grew louder, and seemed to be coming from every direction. Jakes put a hand on his forehead, and he pulled it away slick with sweat. He was panicking. The clanging kept getting closer and closer from the electrical wiring tunnel, and Jakes' flashlight was all over the place. He couldn't keep his hand still.

"Somebody answer me!" he called desperately. "Anybody!" And then the clanging stopped, as well the voice. Everything for a second was perfectly quiet. Jakes waited for a minute, not even moving or daring to breathe. But everything remained silent. Slowly…he started to relax. He put a hand on his forehead again. It was wet, but when he pulled it away…

His hand was covered in blood. He gasped and looked up.

And that was when the creature attacked. All Jakes saw was a flash of brown and brief glimpse of its bloody maw before he felt sharp claws digging into his flesh. He fell to the floor, dropping his flashlight. And through the streams of his own blood, he watched as his flashlight snapped out.

Then he felt a sickening twist as the creature's hand dug into his stomach and heard it shriek an earsplitting cry of triumph. And the last thing Jakes heard was his own voice as he screamed a horrible, burbling cry. "OH GOD! OH JESUS HELP ME! HELP M—"

And then the creature bit deep into his neck, and he was silent. In the darkness there was only the sick squishing and tearing sounds as the creature reaped the benefits of its patience. A minute passed. There was shuffling, and a brief glint of one of the creature's yellow eyes as it dragged away its victim. And then everything was silent once more. And in the darkness nothingness prevailed once again.


	2. Joel Gail

Chapter One: Joel Gail

"The UAC takes pride in its safety record." The automated, female voice announced over the intercom. "Please be sure to follow all safety procedures at all times while working in areas that may present a safety hazard to you or those around you. Thank you, and have a nice day."

"The UAC cares about the well-being of its staff. Psychological reports are free and confidential. Please report to the medical division if you have any questions." Another one chimed in.

"The goals of Union Aerospace Corporation are to expand our knowledge of the world around us through advanced scientific study and progress and to make the world a safer place for everyone. Please visit the front desk if you have any questions." A male voice announced in a distant lobby.

"THE UNION AEROSPACE CORPORATION: BUILDING SAFER WORLDS THROUGH TECHNOLOGICAL SUPERIORITY." Read yet another scrolling LCD banner above Joel's head. He ignored them, and kept walking down the brightly lit hallways of the Mars City transit centre. He thought about everything he'd done today, making a mental list in his head. Okay, he'd gotten the permit, the off-work excuse, temporary general access clearance…OK, yeah. That was everything.

He rounded a corner and moved to avoid a troupe of maintenance workers carrying a large power cell on a large dolly. "Move it, buddy," the one of them said to him, "the reactor went down again."

"How much power can they be pulling from the generators that would cause a whole sector to go out!" another asked. "And then we're the ones who have to fix it."

"Did you here about Jakes and Gibson?" a third one chimed in. "Went out on maintenance detail last night and just disappeared. That's it. No trace of either of them was found."

"And they're not the first. Remember Lawrence's accident in the Delta Labs? I still don't believe he got his foot caught in a servomotor. It's a damned shame, if you ask me. Watch your toes, buddy." The first one grumbled. Joel moved backwards again as the dolly swung out, and they rounded the corner and kept moving. That wasn't the first time he'd heard the maintenance workers complaining about their job. In fact, Joel couldn't think of a time he'd ever heard maintenance worker do anything but complain. But maybe it was because he was a Marine. No excuses, no complaints. Well, not unless you wanted to get exterior security detail from Master Sergeant Kelly.

But they weren't the only ones. Everyone had been on edge recently since the latest round of accidents that had claimed the lives of a more than a few members of the research station. Joel wasn't sure that he wanted to believe that his superiors were lying to him about the accidents. At the same time, it just didn't sound right when he was being told that every single one of them was an unfortunate coincidence. Some suspected murder. Joel tried not to think about it altogether.

Joel hadn't wanted to come to Mars to work here. It wasn't why he'd joined the U.S. Armed Forces. He'd joined to serve his country in any way that he could. But lately it seemed that the U.S. military heads hadn't had qualms about loaning troops out to private organizations. And what choice did he have, really? None. He was just another leatherneck, expected to follow orders like everyone else.

Not that Mars City was a bad place. In fact, it was anything but bad. It had excellent facilities, it was huge, and the Marine compliment he came here with were a pretty nice bunch of fellows. But Joel had often wondered if man's destiny really lied in the stars. Across the rugged, red, Martian landscape, Mars City seemed out of place. Amazing, but out of place nonetheless.

And maybe it wasn't Mars City. Maybe it was the Union Aerospace Corporation itself. Joel remembered in his youth always hearing about something going on in the news about a new breakthrough made by the UAC, and then ten seconds later hear that they were denying allegations involving some internal conspiracy. But one could not deny that the things that the things the Corporation had accomplished were amazing. They were the first to invent plasma weaponry, intersystem jump stations, and an orbital missile defense system that could hit any target within ten centimeters. They also invented prolonged life treatment, wiped out most forms of cancer, and it was a member of their staff who created an antiviral strain to combat AIDS.

But hearing about it on the outside was much different than being involved with it on the inside. But to be honest, Joel could not pinpoint any real source for suspicion. It was just one his many gut feelings, and gut feelings were no grounds for any feeling whatsoever without evidence. So Joel had just recently resolved not to think about it and just do his job.

He'd heard rumors of strange things like voices and worse, but he'd never heard any of these for himself. And the head psychologist had jut recently released a report on his thesis about it. His answer didn't surprise Joel: long work conditions and mental conflicts. Get a good night's sleep and everything will be fine.

"Bullshit." One of his squad mates had condemned the report emphatically after reading it. "I know what I heard, and I ain't a nut." And as much as Joel had wanted to believe Mark, he also had to admit that Mark wasn't the most stable guy in the world.

He leaned back against the wall, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. He looked at the reinforced, plated metal ceiling. It was the first time in a long time when he'd worn something other than his heavy UAC Marine armor, and it was a welcome relief. But even his jacket had the UAC logo emblazoned on the lapel, and his pants were his standard-issue military fatigues. He kind of felt like he was selling himself out to the system, but what they gave him is what he had to wear.

But at least he was cheating the system a little. The reason he was given the day off was because his family was coming to visit him. He smiled again at that thought, and remembered all the red-tape he'd had to go through to even get his proposal to be decided on. Actually, his original request had been to go home to see them on administrative leave, but they'd denied him that. But his wife sent him an email shortly thereafter with the suggestion that they come to him. After meeting with her on a video chat, they'd talked about it.

"I don't know if they'd let me, babe." He'd said to her. "They're switching us out with another unit in six months, so I'll be home soon."

"That's not good enough, Joel." His wife had insisted, her eyes penetrating him. "You picked the worst time to leave, and you know that."

"Baby, I can't help that." He'd said. "I have to go where they want me, or I'll lose my job. And if that happens, we're out of a home. You know I don't like it any more than you do, but it's what I have to do to support this family."

She'd turned away from the screen for a second. "I know." She'd said softly, pretending like she was picking at something in her eye. "I know." Emily hated it when anyone saw her cry, so Joel had waited patiently as she had tried to regain control of herself. Emily wanted to be strong for him, and that was a thing not a lot of wives these days did for their husbands. When she finally did turn back to the screen, Joel made a deliberate effort to notice how bright her eyes were even though they were a dark brown. She always kept her brown hair cropped close and never let it reach the tips of her shoulders. For some reason, she thought it made her look more professional.

They had both married young. Emily was barely twenty-eight, and Joel himself was turning thirty in May. But they were not like a lot of the young couples Joel knew. Emily, for one, had made it a cardinal rule that there were to be no four letter words used in the house while they were raising their daughter even though neither of them were in the habit of such things. Neither of them smoked either, but she'd instated that policy too, and Joel knew there was no arguing with Emily over something like that. She also insisted that they go to church regularly, and she became very upset when she learned that the UAC had no services whatsoever on Sundays. Joel had forgotten, but he didn't tell her that. She was already upset enough about his leaving.

And she was a very professional person. She was a licensed medical practitioner, which was a much higher paying profession these days than a stupid grunt like he was. But she'd been talking about quitting recently so she could spend more time with their daughter. And Joel loved her even more because of that.

After a minute of uneasy silence, Joel had said, "I love you, baby."

"I love you too." She said, finally looking back at the screen.

"Mommy! Mommy!" Joel knew that unmistakable cry anywhere, and he smiled as Emily's head momentarily disappeared from the screen so she could lean over and call, "Mommy's talking to daddy right now, sweetie!" And after a pause and a brief glance back at the screen, she asked, "Would you like to say hi to daddy, honey?"

The squeal of delight that followed had nearly brought to tears to Joel's eyes. Over the tinny, long distance satellite connection, he heard the sound of small feet running into a room that he had been billions of miles away from right then. And then he realized that he still was.

Then he watched as his wife reached down and scooped up his daughter in her arms. Then he found himself staring into the face of his little girl. Her big blue eyes stared into the screen, and her tiny lips curled into a huge smile. Yes, it was his daughter: Megan. "Daddy!" she squealed, and her hands shot out and covered the screen.

"Don't touch the screen, honey." Emily said gently. "You're squashing daddy's face." Joel smiled, and he'd watched as Megan's little hands instantly removed themselves from the screen and were replaced by Megan's worried face.

"Did I hurt you, daddy?" she'd asked fearfully.

"No, honey." Joel had said. "Daddy's still as big and strong as always. How are you, honey? Is kindergarten going well for you?"

"Yes!" she'd shouted exuberantly. "Mommy says I'm very smart! I get a gold star everyday from teacher!"

"Well, there was never any doubt of that." Joel had said. "You've always made daddy very proud."

"Really?" Emily had asked, Joel unable to focus on anything but her sparkling eyes. "I'm special, daddy?"

"You're very special to me, sweetie." Joel had said. "Very special."

"Daddy…" Megan had said, "I miss you."

"I miss you a lot too." Joel had said.

Then Megan had stretched her arms out. "I miss you this much."

Joel then had stretched the length of his arms. "Well, I miss you this much."

"When will you be home?" she had asked. "Mommy says soon, but Mommy cries a lot. Are you really coming home, Daddy? Why does mommy cry so much?"

"Sweetie…" Emily had warned cautiously.

"Because Mommy loves Daddy very much." Joel had explained to his daughter. "And Mommy misses Daddy just as much as you do." And from that point, conversation had been short. Joel had felt bad every minute of it, and he still did. His daughter was only five, and her daddy wasn't home to be a father to her. When he'd left, she'd cried the way the airport and wouldn't let go of his hand so he could get on the shuttle. But didn't it figure that life would throw this at him when he didn't need it? Of course it did. But that was why they were both coming to see him today. And they were not just visiting shortly, but for a whole two weeks.

A whole two weeks. Strangely, all Joel could think about was how much time it would take to explain everything to Emily. And then he thought about all the things he could do with Megan. Show her the Martian landscape on foot, show her where he worked and lived, take her down to the bar to have a chocolate milk (which was actually pretty good)…and then he got excited again.

He looked down at his watch. It was three 'o clock Galactic Standard Time. The drop-ship was scheduled to come in at three thirty, and he was only in the transit centre. He needed to book it if he wanted to make it past monorail security and get to Mars City Central. He took his Personal Data Assistant out of his pocket, and consulted the map. Then he looked down the junction where he was standing. The monorail station wasn't even a minute away, but it would take God knows how long to get past security.

He moved quickly down the hallway, his other concerns slowly being replaced by thoughts of his wife and daughter.


	3. Happy Reunion

Chapter Two: Happy Reunion

Besides the drop-ship itself, the hangar was devoid of anyone besides the two landing men who had been called to bring the craft in. The domed, earthen, red walls stretched up from the deep crevasse until they ended in a large hole in the ceiling that revealed the bright orange, Martian sky. But Joel didn't notice any of this. Security had been a bitch as usual about his security clearance, and he was two minutes past the scheduled arrival time.

Joel ran quickly across the catwalk above the main landing pad, the deafening roar of the drop-ship filling the entire vastness of the landing bay. His jacket was swept up behind him and he felt intense warmth on his face as the huge rear turbo-engines on the huge, black craft beneath him rotated upwards to counterbalance the inertia of the forward stabilizers. The white hot fire flared again, and Joel heard the loud hissing as the landing pads on the craft deployed. He quickly hurried to the main servo-lift at the end of the catwalk, and punched the "Down" key. The lift lurched under his feet, and then descended smoothly to the main landing floor just inches from the hull of the craft, the landing lights flashing brightly in the semidarkness of the landing bay.

When the servo-lift reached the bottom with a jolt, Joel stepped off of it easily and approached the nearest landing director on duty, waving his orange guide lights at the cockpit in repetitive sweeping movements. He didn't even turn as Joel approached, and Joel wasn't even sure the man could hear him over the roar of the craft.

"Excuse me!" Joel shouted over the roar. The man turned his head, his large helmet and jet black visor gleaming in the flashing lights. The man waved him away with one of the guide lights, and pointed back at the craft. Joel stepped back and looked at the craft that was now no further than five yards from him. He ran his eyes up and down the boxy vessel as its engines slowly began to quiet.

The landing pads made contact with the metal floor, and the white hot glow of the ship's eight engines began to fade. Now that the noise level had become tolerable, Joel again tried to communicate with the landing man. "Is this a personnel transfer?" he shouted again.

The landing man put down his guide lights, satisfied that the craft was now safe in the hangar. He turned to Joel, and took out his own Personal Data Assistant. After consulting the electronic notepad, he looked up at Joel. "Yes sir! We have a Marine as well as four civilians on special permit to come here!"

Then the main hatch on the craft began to extend, but Joel didn't even wait for the debarkation ramp to fully deploy. He started towards the craft. The blue-green lighted ramp lowered to the metal grating at his feet, and he looked into the brightly lit interior of the craft.

He heard loud snap from inside the craft as the passenger bay door slid up. He flexed his fingers, expecting to see his wife and daughter any moment now. But they were not the first people he saw the exit the craft. From the nearest door he could see inside the craft, two men appeared. One was a short, portly man with a balding head and sunglasses. He was wearing an expensive looking Armani, and his dark goatee-moustache was neatly trimmed. He was escorted by a taller, younger man with a shaved head. He was wearing the standard Marine armor, but his was yellow and had the rank of captain emblazoned on the shoulder. He was carrying a large suitcase in his left hand. Neither of them took notice of Joel as they descended the ramp.

"Dr. Betrugger has gone too far this time." The portly man said, pointing at his escort. "I have the council's permission to conduct a full investigation of the operations here. I'm going to need full access to everything, including Delta Labs."

"Do you expect him to cooperate?" the shaved man said a gruff voice. "I'm thinking somebody should have given us the sanction to do this a long time ago."

"I hope so. But if not, we'll need to notify the council immediately." the portly man replied as he walked past Joel, adjusting his sunglasses on his face. "I don't want to keep coming out here and running damage control whenever something goes wrong…"

The shaved man chuckled. "Heh. Damage control. You're the control, and if that doesn't work…I'm the damage."

The two continued, unaware of anyone but themselves. Joel watched them as he took a step forward, and ran into the next man coming off of the shuttle. His head immediately snapped around and he found himself staring at someone's armored chest. He looked up until he was looking into the face of a Marine with short, dark hair and a large, set jaw. The two studied each for a second, but finally Joel looked away. "Sorry."

The Marine grunted and shifted his duffle bag up onto his shoulder, continuing after the first two men. Joel immediately put his attention back onto the inside of the craft. But there was no one else that he could see. He started to get nervous. But of course his fears were irrational. They had to be. They wouldn't have just—

"Mommy! My seatbelt is stuck!"

"Honey, sit still. It's not stuck. You just need to press down on this. See?"

The voices were unmistakable. Joel crept up the ramp, feeling happiness rise in his chest. He continued until he was inside the craft, a smile breaking on his face. He leaned over to fit inside the interior of the craft. He heard them talking near the back of the craft. "Did you get your things?"

"Yes, mommy."

"Everything? I don't want to get off this shuttle to hear you tell me that you left something important behind."

Joel paused outside of the door where he heard the voices come from. He then pressed the release button on the door, and it slid up silently. He looked around the corner and peered in.

He was staring at Emily's back, who was currently bent over the seat helping his currently invisible daughter with her seat. She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans and rocking back and forth as she assisted her daughter. Joel slipped in, still unnoticed. Slowly, he snuck up behind his wife. He crept until he could look right down the back of her jeans before he wrapped an arm around her suddenly, and said, "What do you think you're doing here, miss?"

Megan squealed in excitement as Joel picked his wife right off the floor and swept her up into his arms. The surprised look was still frozen on her beautiful face as he kissed her, which elicited a whole new round of excited squeals from Megan. As soon as they broke, Emily said the first words he'd heard from her in person in along while: "You and I have a lot of catching up to do, buster."

"I agree." Joel said, pecking her again on the lips. God, he'd almost forgotten how she felt in his arms. Gently, he set her down, and looked over her shoulder at Megan, who was bouncing up and down in her seat uncontrollably. "Where's my favorite little girl, Meg?"

She squealed again, and jumped out of her seat. She slid between her mommy's legs and then wrapped herself around his legs. "Daddy!" she yelled exuberantly. "Daddy, daddy, daddy!" He reached down and picked her up. She released hold of his legs, and opted instead to wrap her arms around his neck as he held her close. "Daddy, I missed you!"

"Daddy missed you too, honey." he said softly into her ear. Her big, Then he held her out in front of him, appraising her. She giggles as he bounced her in his arms. "Well, it looks likes somebody's grown some…and gaining a little weight, I see. What are you trying to do, Meg? Get fat like mommy?" He looked at his wife, who was very much the contrary of that statement. She laughed too. "Now…" Joel said, bring his daughter back to his chest. "Let me help you with your things."

-

"Now I'm going to be straight with you, Dr. Betrugger." Elliot Swann said, placing his hands on the long conference table that separated him from the man. Campbell was standing behind him, hands placed behind his back. "I want to know what's going in this facility."

Betrugger, although old, was an intimidating figure. His skin was a pale, milky color to match the shade of his left eye. Some members of the council even called him "condor-eye" in whispers. As the man's wrinkled face stretched into a frown, he leaned forward. His small nose wrinkled as he stared in deep thought at Swann, undoubtedly thinking nasty thoughts about him.

But Swann expected no less. Personally, he wished he could get Betrugger removed from the council. The man was just too shady…too mysterious to be in the position that he was as commander of all Mars City. But Swann had to admit that Betrugger's work here had been invaluable. In the brief and often vague reports he sent back to Earth, he outlined what he called "Project Gateway". Higher echelons in UAC pored over this little material that was supposed to substantiate the council's curiosity for months at a time. But only recently had he revealed that it involved teleportation. But that's when complaints had started coming in from Mars City, and that's when the council had "advised" that Swann go and investigate. And so here he was, and somehow he felt no closer to reaching his goal.

"Progress is what's going on, Mr. Swann." Betrugger said easily, his face suddenly relaxing into a sly grin. "We've made great strides in overcoming the previous failures with gateway experimentation. I would like to say that, in a couple of months, we will be starting to learn how to put short-range teleportation grids to practical use—"

"Thank you, Doctor, that answer is sufficient." Swann said, taking out his PDA and making a note in it. "Now please tell me why all of these complaints have been lodged with the UAC board."

"Complaints?" Betrugger asked. "You mean the gripes of those pitiful, spineless idiots that constitute the vast majority of my staff?"

"Yes, I do." Swann said. "Now I'm going to right the most pressing matter we're facing back on Earth…" he flipped quickly through the files on his PDA. "Why are so many of your workers spooked, stressed, even going so far as to request transfers off of Mars?"

"Because they fear what they don't understand, Mr. Swann." Betrugger said, turning away.

"But three hundred requests?" Swann questioned, holding up his PDA. "Three hundred individual requests to work for the UAC in other lines of work are on file right now, Dr. Betrugger. Not to mention countless accident reports, seven of which were fatal. Under your management this operation has doubled its efficiency, I'll give you that, but the UAC refuses to keep covering up your mistakes. Now I want to know why those mistakes occurred."

"Perhaps if I had a larger, more competent staff and the money for safer equipment, perhaps even the fatal accidents could have been avoided." Betrugger countered.

"The council has given you more than enough resources to—"

"The council?" he cut in, looking back over his shoulder at Swann. His pale left eye glared at him menacingly in the harsh overhead lighting. He turned around, and put his hands on the table as well. "The council cares nothing for scientific progress! They don't believe in progress. All they want is some _product_," he snarled when he said that word, "some _product _that they can sell to make a profit. But don't worry…" he looked at his reflection in the table. "I'll give them their product. They'll get their product."

Swann's eyes narrowed as he studied the old man. "I have a letter from the council that gives me sanction to investigate every aspect of this operation…including the Delta Labs."

"And you have that right. Just stay out of my way, Swann, you and your flunky." Betrugger hissed. "And don't get lost."

Swann clenched his jaw. He watched as Betrugger turned and looked at a propaganda poster behind him on the wall that read: "Union Aerospace Corporation: Bringing Us All One Step Closer to Heaven on Earth."

"Amazing things will happen here soon." he said quietly, crossing his arms behind his back complacently. "You just wait and see…" And then he was quiet.

After a long moment, Swann turned and patted Campbell on the shoulder. "Let's go. We've got to get a sit-rep to the council immediately."

-

They were back at Marine HQ in the private divisions, standing in the long, long corridor that made up the homes of every single marine in Mars City, including Master Sergeant Kelly himself. The sloping metal walls were painted a soft green, and every door had an LCD panel on it that declared the name of its resident. The lights in the hallway were dimmed slightly so the natural, orangey glow of Mar's natural light could shine in through the overhead skylights. Megan was staring up in awe, totally transfixed by a dust storm that was occurring in the upper atmosphere in a chaotic swirl of silky dust and toxic gases. Joel noticed that Emily had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention again as they continued towards his quarters.

Security had let them through pretty easily after Emily flashed her special permit forms to the men on duty. Joel noticed that the men had also sent stares that said they wished that she'd flashed them something else as well. Joel had known that these men hadn't seen any women in months, but he'd still been unable to keep himself from getting hot under that collar. Megan had even said "hi" to them, and they waved back awkwardly, sending Joel a confused look. After the way that they'd looked at his wife, he hadn't given them the satisfaction of an answer.

And then he'd lead them through the maze that was Mars city, through tunnels and lobbies and countless doors and even a couple of elevators to reach the marine bunkers. Surprisingly, Megan uttered not a single word about her feet hurting. She seemed too enthralled with the new environment to notice, whereas everyone else seemed enthralled with Joel and his family. Everyone they'd passed stared and some even stopping what they were doing to watch the highly unusual group walk by casually. But Joel hadn't minded the stares. He just felt like the luckiest guy in the galaxy.

He hefted the two suitcases on his shoulders again, and couldn't help but think that they'd packed pretty light for two weeks. He looked at his wife again, and she looked at him, and smiled. "We're going to have a great time." he said. "You'd be surprised at the amount of things you can do here."

"Can we really go out on a Jeep and see Mars, daddy? Can we, can we?" Megan begged, tugging on her mother's hand. "I wanna see a Martian! Like on the TV!"

"We will, honey." Joel said. "We have a whole two weeks here. Today, I think mommy and I are going to rest. We're getting very old, you know."

"No you're not!" she insisted, sending her mother an indignant look. "Are you old, mommy?"

"Older than you." Emily replied playfully. "And I do need my beauty sleep or get really ugly."

"It's true." Joel added.

"Like, you turn into an ugly monster?" Megan asked amazedly. "Wow! I wanna see!"

"I don't think so, sweetheart." Emily said. "You really wouldn't want to have nightmares, would you?"

"And here we are." Joel said, stopping at one of the many identical doors. He touched the LCD screen with his name on it, and it instantly vanished and was replaced with a password line. He looked at Emily. "Want to guess at it?"

Instead of answering, his wife simply pushed his hand away from the screen, and quickly typed something into the command line. She pressed "CONFIRM", and the door snapped as it unlocked and slid open. She looked at him satisfactorily. "You're too easy, Joel."

"Using my wife's name was too easy? I can request to have it changed if you want…" he replied.

"E-m-i-l-y!" Megan cheered. "I learned how to spell mommy's name! And I can spell my own, too! See? It's M-e-g-a-n!"

They stepped into Joel's room, and the first thing Emily said was: "Joel, without a woman around…" She shook her head. Joel shrugged, knowing that was undoubtedly going to be her reaction. His generously sized bed was made, but his standard-issue firearm was lying precariously on the edge of his nightstand next to his digital alarm clock, which was turned over on its side. The overhead compartments that served as his dressers were half open, and boxers, shirts, and even his security armor were hanging half out in space above his bed. Even though his quarters were large enough to stretch your arms all the way out and walk the eighteen steps it took to get to the other side, the floor space was cluttered with his toiletries, his laptop, and even a rubber ducky that one of his friends had won from one of the claw machines in the bar and lounge area. There were no lights anywhere in his room. There was only a large, hermetically sealed plate glass window that gave an excellent view of the Martian landscape and cast a soft light on the entire room.

"Welcome to my domain." Joel said evilly, making Megan giggle. He looked over his shoulder at her, and sent a mock evil stare at her. "This is the shape of things come when your mommy stops caring about daddy picking up his room!"

"You can keep dreaming, buster." Emily reprimanded him gently as she walked in and kicked all of the stuff on the floor aside and putting her hands on her hips. "This place is an absolute mess…well, at least you made your bed."

"They make us do that for inspection." Joel said. "And I usually just stuff everything into the overhead compartments where they never look."

"Bad boy." Emily said, wagging a finger at him as she reset his alarm clock and placed it right side up on the stand. Then she picked up the pistol and shook her head. "You knew where this has to go while Megan's here, Joel. Don't you?"

"Yeah." he said, feeling warmth rise to his neck. He really should have put it away to begin with. She pulled the safety back into place and released the clip, letting the ammo drop into her hand. "Wait," he said, "it has to stay loaded, in case of an emergency."

"If they don't check your compartments, then they won't check this." she said, reaching up and putting the gun into the overhead storage area. "You know I don't want Megan getting any ideas."

"Guns are bad, daddy." Megan said, wagging a disdaining finger at her father. "Mommy said so, and mommy's always right."

"Yes she is." Joel said. "You're absolutely right, sweetheart." He put up his hands in surrender. "I am now officially relinquishing all possessions in this room to you, dear."

"Good." Emily said. "You can start by—"

"Corporal Gail, front and CENTER!" a loud voice barked right behind Joel all of a sudden, making him jump. Emily's head also snapped around, and she flinched also. Megan screamed, and held onto her daddy's leg at the sudden surprise. "Turn around, Corporal! You know better than that! This is the corps!"

Joel complied with the command, and found himself staring into the face of a man at least seven years his senior with peroxide blonde hair that shaved almost to the point of invisibility. He had a tight complexion, and crossed his muscular arms across his olive green UAC marine armor. The man's jaw was tensed in a look of deep concentration as his beady, silver eyes pierced Joel. "Well?" the man interrogated. "What have you got to say for yourself, son?"

But Joel was no longer worried. His shoulders suddenly slumped in relaxation. It was Staff Sergeant Steve Nicholson Hammer. Then he suddenly relaxed, and started laughing. He put his arms out to hug the man. "You son of a—"

"No sir!" Sergeant Hammer interrupted in his thick, Texan accent. His serious look broke into a wide, friendly grin. He looked past Joel at Emily. "And you told _me_ no cussin' while the family was here, son! Lord knows you swore to integrity when you joined the corps, now what's gotten into you? And I thought you were going to tell me when the folks got here so I could meet 'em!"

"Um, Joel…?" Emily asked.

Joel turned around. "Oh, I'm sorry, Emily!" he turned back to Steve. "Steve, this is my wife, Emily. Emily, this is my squad captain—"

"—and friend." Steve added.

"Yes, and friend, Steve Hammer." Joel said.

Steve walked right in, and stuck his hand out. "It's a real pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Joel here just wouldn't stop talkin' about you on the job. Every day, he's been talking this, and Lord knows he been excited. He keeps saying what a real sweetie you are. He didn't disappoint, ma'am."

Emily took his hand, and he shook it firmly. "Please to make your acquaintance, Mr. Ha—"

"Steve. Just Steve, ma'am. Lord knows that's what everyone calls me." he said, smiling disarmingly with his large, white smile. "Joel here has to call me Staff Sergeant on duty, but you're excused."

"Daddy…?" Megan asked cautiously, easing off of his lower leg slowly.

Steve turned around, and looked down. "Well, now. Who have we here, Joel?"

"This is my daughter, Megan." he looked down at her, and saw the uneasy look on her face. "It's okay, Megan. This is daddy's friend Mr. Steve."

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Steve said, turning and stooping down to her level. "Did I scare you coming in?" She put a tiny hand to her lower lip and nodded slowly. Steve chuckled easily. "Lord knows I'm sorry, ma'am. Didn't mean to that, no siree. Here. You want to shake?"

And she warily took a step forward and put her hand out. "Are you mad at daddy?"

He shook his head, chuckling. "No, ma'am. Your daddy's a fine man." He patted her on the shoulder reassuringly. "He told me that he's gonna treat you to a good time here. That's not easy to do, I'll tell ya, but your daddy has his ways."

"Steve has kids of his own." Joel said to Emily, nodding.

"Oh, really?" Emily asked. Steve looked at her and nodded.

"Jake and Sally are the prides of my life." Steve said, looking at the floor for a second, his smile disappearing for a second. "The missus took off when they were real young, yep. Left a lot of trouble for me and them. That's why I'm here and not back at home with them. But Lord knows I miss 'em."

"Oh." Emily said softly. "I'm sorry."

"It's no big deal now, ma'am. They're living with my mother back in Houston, and I keep in touch. But your daughter reminds me a lot of Sally." He turned back to Megan, and smiled. Then he looked at Joel for a long moment before slowly returning to his feet. "I'll be heading out now, Joel. Unlike you, I gotta work for the next two weeks. But I wish y'all a great time and it was nice to get to meet you." He shook Emily's hand again, and started to leave.

"Um, actually…" Joel said, holding up his hand. "Now that you've already met them, I'd like to ask you if—"

Emily gave Joel a puzzled look, as did Steve. "Yeah, man?" Steve asked, stopping, checking his watch.

Joel didn't exactly know how to say this, so he stooped down to Megan, who was still staring at Steve. "Megan, would you like to go with Mr. Steve and see some Martians while us old people take a nap?"

Emily's face kind of collapsed into a look of curiosity and confusion. Steve also looked at him, but he said, "I'd love to get to know your daughter."

"Joel—" Emily started, but she stopped herself.

Steve chuckled, and returned Megan's stare. Then he looked at Emily. "Um…" he scratched the back of his head. "I don't know what to say, ma'am."

Emily looked at Megan. "Sweetie? Do you want to go with Mr. Steve, or would you rather stay with mommy and daddy? Do you need a nap, or are you fine?"

Megan's stare made all three adults shift nervously. Joel thought for a second that maybe this had been a bad idea. Finally, she said, "Are we really going to see Martians?"

Steve then broke into another relaxing chuckle, and said, "I'll see what I can do…" then he looked at Emily, and said, "But only if it's okay with your mommy."

"Oh, um…yeah. It's—it's fine." Emily said, putting up her hands and smiling. "I don't want her getting lost, and it would probably be a good idea if she got a tour from the pro."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked. "You just met me, and you trust me with your daughter? Lord knows I'm flattered, ma'am, I truly am."

"You have kids of your own, Mr. Hammer. And my husband has always made good friends. It's fine with me." Emily said, finally managing an authentic smile.

Joel smiled too, and said, "She's yours, sir."

"Yay!" Megan shouted, clapping her hands and running towards the man she'd been afraid of minutes before. He smiled, and put his hand out.

"You have a good time with Mr. Steve." Joel said to his daughter. "And be careful. You pretend he's me and listen to everything he says. I don't want you getting hurt."

"She won't get hurt under my watch, Joel. I promise. I raised two kids out in the dust, and neither of 'em got anything worse than a sprained ankle…" he put out his large hand, and Megan clutched it. Steve chuckled once again, and led her out the door. On his way out, he said, "You have no idea how much this means to me, Joel." He shook his head. "No idea at all."

And then they were gone. Joel listened as Megan chattered excitedly to Steve before he closed the door and soundproofed the room. Then he turned to Emily, who was staring at him knowingly. The orange light coming through window silhouetted her figure. A thick silence set in. "You love Megan, honey, and you've already shipped her off?"

"I think we need to take a nap." Joel said innocuously. She sat down on the bed, and he approached slowly. He took his jacket off, and threw it on the floor.

"What have I said about that?" she said. "Bad boy." But at the same time she reached down and began pulling her own shirt off.

"Not enough, apparently." Joel said. "I guess I just don't learn."

"Well, come here and let's see if I can convince you to do something about that." she said.

And within the next few minutes even her clothes were all over the floor along with his, adding to the mess. But neither of them cared. In those endless minutes that followed, Joel had not a doubt in his mind that Heaven was a real place, and it was tangible. And at that moment, Heaven was directly beneath him. Her name was Emily Gail. And Joel soon found out another interesting fact.

Heaven was indeed capable of expressing how much she missed him without using any intelligible words other than, "Yes!"

-

Somewhere in the recesses of his mind, Steve knew that Joel and Emily weren't resting, but of course he did not interrupt Megan's constant flow of questions by burdening her with knowledge of same. He just held her little hand like he'd done with Sally when she had been this age, and happily satisfied her every curiosity. Even though he was now decked on in his armor, the cold metal walls looming over his head, and Texas many billions of miles away right now, he could almost feel the dry heat of the midday sun on his face again as he listened to her voice.

They were a sweet couple, Joel and Emily, and there daughter was no different. She was quite adventurous, leaning over and touching the pipes on the walls and imitating the clanking noises of the interior workings of the base that surrounded them. "What's this for, Mr. Steve?" she asked, reaching for yet another pipe in the wall.

"That's an air pipe." he replied. "It makes sure all of us can do this." He took in a deep breath, and then let it out. "See? Without it, we'd be in big trouble."

She nodded solemnly, retracting her hand. "Where are the Martians?"

"Oh, somewhere out in the Martian desert. I suppose they're eating their Martian lunch and telling Martian stories right now." Steve replied. "Now I've seen a Martian."

"Wow!" Megan exclaimed, covering her mouth. "Was it scary?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am! Not to Mr. Steve he wasn't! He had big green eyes, and a long, skinny neck! You know what he said to me, miss?"

"What?" she asked.

"He said, 'Hi.'." And then Steve stopped to smile as Megan stared in wonder.

"He just said hi?" she asked. "Didn't he try to eat you?"

"Nope." Steve replied. "The Martians here are friendly. But you have to be real quiet to get them to come, 'cause Lord knows they're real shy. But he did show me a trick." He stopped, and stooped down. "Now watch carefully, miss, and make sure I'm doing it right." Slowly he retrieved a quarter from his pocket, and slid it under his watchband. Megan stared at him, waiting for the surprise. He put his hand next to her ear. "I gotta whisper it in your ear, you know? Those Martians don't like me spreading their stories around, and—oh!" he exclaimed, flipping the quarter out from her ear. She turned her head and stared in awe. Then she looked at him, and squealed in delight.

"Wow, Mr. Steve!" she said gleefully, big grin on her face. "How did you do that?"

"I don't know." Steve said in genuine shock, shrugging. "It must be some of that Martian magic." He flipped the coin upwards, the metallic ping ringing in the silence. She snatched the shining object from the air as it came down. "You can keep it." he said, smiling. "When a quarter just appears like that, ma'am, you know it's got to be good luck.

"Yes sir!" she said, shoving the coin into her shorts' pocket.

"Now don't tell anyone." said Steve, putting a finger to his lips. "Lord knows it's a secret between you and I. Got it?" She nodded excitedly. "Good." And then he stood up and grabbed her hand again. They turned a corner into a junction, and came to an elevator.

"I wanna push the button!" she said, releasing his hand and running to the elevator. He laughed.

"We're going up now, to the game room. You like games, Megan?" he asked. When she nodded, he said, "Then press up."

But right as she put her finger on the button, the elevator pinged, and the doors opened. Steve looked at the two men inside, and said, "Oh Lord."

It was Ricks and McDonough, also dressed in their Marine armor and wielding the light machine guns that Delta security were told to carry at all times. But even thought the two were Delta Sec, they weren't anywhere near as professional acting. They'd been transferred from Steve's unit, and Steve had been glad to see them go. They never showed up to their post on time, never were respectful with anyone, and never paid attention. In fact, they walked right out of the elevator and didn't even notice Megan. But they did notice Steve.

"Texas!" Ricks called in his thick Boston accent, his unshaven face curling into a half smile, half snarl. "Where have you been all day? Usually you're the one climbing up people's asses to be punctual to places!"

"I was on my way to the lounge." Steve said, twitching at the fact that they'd sworn in the presence of a young lady already. But they'd only get rowdier if they noticed her, so he let it slide this time. "I have the other half of the day off. I spent all morning in Alpha."

"See, this dude gets days off." McDonough said. McDonough was one of the few African Americans on staff, but for some reason he thought that gave him special privileges. "We don't get nothing. We work in the high security areas, and we don't get no special privileges."

"You must earn the privileges. The fact that you both are still first class privates and you got transferred into Delta is a miracle in and of itself." Steve said as calmly as he could.

"It's better than working our asses off in your unit!" Ricks shot back. "We were the only guys in your unit who never got a day off!"

"Lords knows you never did any work, plain and simple." Steve said, looking over their shoulders at Megan, who was watching the two new men unsurely. "Now if you'll excuse me—"

"Well, why did Joel and Hendricks get days off?" Ricks cut him off. "All Joel ever did was stand around with a gun in his hands, and Hendricks just listened to Sergeant Kelly bitch at everyone all day!"

"They did what I asked them to." Steve said. "Now will you stop swearing? Show a little integrity for once in your lives!"

"Hey, hey." McDonough said. "Don't be tellin' us what to do. We got switched to Delta. You didn't. We get paid more. You get paid to go back to the Wild West in six months and play rodeo again, cowboy."

"I'll let you boys in on a secret." Steve said, keeping his rage suppressed within himself. He leaned over until he was right in their faces. "Only the most expendable soldiers get transferred to Delta. Keep that in mind while you're flashing your badges around."

Watching their expressions was amusing, because it was true. More Marines had suffered severe injury working Delta than in any other position in Mars City. But finally, they spoke. "Yes sir, Mr. Texas sir." Ricks said snidely. "We'll be careful. Come on, Mac."

And with that, the two men brushed past him and kept walking. Steve just kept staring straight ahead letting his anger boil down a little. No respect for anyone. Those jackasses were going to get their just desserts sooner or later. After they rounded the corner and their footsteps disappeared, Steven walked over to Megan. "Are you okay, ma'am?"

"Are they bad guys, Mr. Steve?" Megan asked. "You're a good guy, and they were being mean to you."

"They were acting bad right then, weren't they?" Steve said. "Yes, Lord knows that there are some mean people here, just like there's mean people everywhere. But they aren't going to have fun, are they?"

"Nope!" Megan smiled, giggling.

"That's right." Steve said, stepping into the utilitarian elevator with Megan. The doors slid shut, and Steve pressed the button on the wall that said: "MARS CITY: FL. 1". The elevator jerked, making Megan grip Steve's hand tighter, and then it began moving upwards. "We're gonna have fun, and they aren't."

-

"You want unpack now that we're…?" Joel asked her, his heart starting to return to its normal rate.

"Not right now…" Emily whispered, her breath returning. She nuzzled her head against his chest. "I really do want to take a nap."

"Alright." he said, kissing on her on the top of head. "I love you."

"Mm-hm." she said. Her naked body slid away from his as she rolled over, pulling the covers over her shoulders.

Joel placed his hands behind his head, and lied back against his pillow. He stared at the metal ceiling, and then looked out the window at the waning daylight. Days were shorter on Mars, and dusk was already setting in. "When Megan and Steve get back, you want to have dinner in the main hall with the rest of the guys, or go to the convenience bar and have something there?" No response. "Emily?" he asked again, looking over.

His response was her soft breath. He watched as her shoulder rose and fell gently in sync with her breathing, and he sighed. She was asleep already. She must have really been tired, especially after making love for the first time in forever. Come to think of it, he was pretty tired as well. So he put an arm around her shoulder, and closed his eyes as well. He thought about putting something on in case someone came to the door, but he'd do that later. If anyone came to the door, he'd just let them knock. He'd done enough work over the past few weeks, pulling double shifts and whatnot. It didn't help with all the Marines already on edge because of the latest accidents. But he didn't need to worry about that for a while now. He was technically on administrative leave, and nothing in Heaven or Hell was going to ruin this time he spent with his family.


	4. Ta'ash Na Tartaros

Chapter Three: Ta'ash Na Tartaros

Swann stared at the corpse on the autopsy table in front of him, shaking his head slowly. Campbell shifted the suitcase in hand, and said, "What do you think, sir?"

The subject's body was, for the most part, unharmed. There were no wounds or detectable viral or pathogenic agents. But the man was dead. His mouth was clenched into a snarl, and all the hair on his head had fallen out. His eyes were staring straight ahead beyond the ceiling into infinity but he had no pupils, or irises for that matter. They were just iridescent, white spheres in his head. Swann looked up at the doctor on the other side of the table. "Would you like to explain the case, Doctor?"

"Certainly." the doctor replied, removing his blue surgeon's mask. There was a tray full of tools in front of him. He picked a pair of tweezers off of the tray, and removed the sheet covering the body. "This is Luke Jameson, a scientist who used to work Gateway operations in Delta Sector…"

"The Gateway, Doctor." Swann interrupted. "The council has been informed that the 'Gateway' project was a pioneer into short range teleportation technology. I'd like to you to explain to me what that has to do with this man lying here."

Doctor stood there in silence for a second, but finally said. "All I do is treat the men that Delta sends me. They have not told me why they are here, but only that they have become unable to work. But let me show you something." He walked over to one of the many metallic storage areas that lined the wall of infirmary, and pulled out a PDA. After placing his thumb on the ID scanner, the data assistant beeped and flashed on. Swann watched patiently as he flipped through the files. "I think you're going to find this interesting, sir. This man was admitted for a severe migraine after a Gateway test, and looked fine after I gave him a general analgesic. Well, I made him do a medical log in his PDA before he was supposed to be released. This the audio log of this man before unexpectedly died."

The room was silently, but then the PDA's audio record kicked in, and the sound of the dead man's voice filled the room. "This is the audio log of Scientist Luke Jameson, dated November 18th, 2145. The medical staff is making me do a log since I've checked in on account of a bad headache that I've been suffering since I came back through the Gateway. I thought nothing of the headache until I got too weak to stand, at which point our team director handed me over to the medical department. I'm sure it's nothing, and I hope it will pass soon…I have some work to do on analyzing the creatures we encountered today. End of log."

"He died within the next half hour." the doctor said, putting the PDA down. "The nurse noticed his pupils constricting, and went to get help. By the time we came back, he was dead."

"Any known cause of death?" Swann asked.

The doctor shook his head. "No, but all of our in-patients recently have been through the Gateway…" he shook his head, and looked up. "Only one is still surviving."

"Out of how many?" Swann asked.

"Ten." the doctor said. "I actually count this man among the lucky. The rest…well…they survived for days before going completely insane."

"Is the one still alive in good shape?" Swann asked.

"By all physical means, he is stable. But he is gone mentally." the doctor said. "I don't know what the hell happened to these men, but they won't tell me. They never tell me anything anymore. Not since Betrugger brought in more scientists and Marines for Gateway experiments."

"Can we see the man?" Swann asked, removing his sunglasses and sticking them in his lapel pocket. "I'd like to make a log of this."

The doctor nodded. "We have a psychologist analyzing him right. It won't do any good, but it's all we can do."

They walked away from the autopsy table and towards a sliding glass door the opposite side of the room. The door opened as they approached, and they walked out into a hallway marked: "INTENSIVE CARE FACILITY". It was very dark, and the only light came from the tiny windows on the thick, metal doors. Swann looked in them as he passed. All of the rooms were empty but he saw that some of them were bloodstained, and many of their flashing panels read: "SUBJECT DECEASED."

Campbell tapped Swann on the shoulder. Swann turned to him, and said, "Betrugger's fatality reports are inconsistent with what he told the council."

"He was only counting civilian deaths." Campbell said. "The sneaky bastard." Swann was about to reply, but then he heard loud sobbing. It was a man's voice. Then there was another shriek, dampened by the thick doors.

"He's up ahead." the doctor said. "Michael Sumrall is his name. He used to be a Marine before this happened to him." He stopped at a cell a few doors down, and bid the men look in. Swann approached the window, and stared in.

It was a mess. The padded walls inside were splattered with blood everywhere, and the overhead light had a patch of brown on it. But what disturbed Swann was what was written on the walls in sloppy, hurried writing: "BURN. SUFFER. DIE." The words were smeared haphazardly across the walls over and over and over again, oftentimes hitting a corner abruptly and arching up in a new direction. Then Swann looked at the man himself, who was sitting on the padded outcropping in the wall that served as his bed. His face was completely red with blood, and his whole body was trembling violently. His eyes were darting around and looking in every direction at a speed Swann could not keep up with. There were dark circles under his eyes that were visible even through the layer of red on his face, and thin stream of saliva steadily flowed from the corner of his mouth and onto his also bloodstained straitjacket. His hair was gone, and so was the color in his irises. Another man was standing in the cell, wearing a soft blue jacket. The man calmly folded his hands, and held a small recording device to his mouth. "This is day two of my talks with Michael Sumrall. After short round of panic on his part, I am now proceeding." Swann heard the man say on the room's external speakers. He watched the man walked over to the patient, and said, "Now, Mike. Tell me what you see."

"I DON'T WANT TO SEE ANYMORE!" the man screamed hoarsely, his eyes rolling back into his head. "I WANT TO SEE IT! I DON'T WANT TO FEEL IT!"

"Mike, I'm here to help you." the man said. "You need to calm down."

"It's coming…" the patient said, his features suddenly relaxing and his voice getting strangely calm. "It's coming for you. It's coming for me. And when it comes, then you'll see it. You'll see it, and it will see you. The darkness sees everything. And when it sees you, you can't help but feel it. It will feel you and find you and find and see you."

"Mike, why did you cut yourself and make these writings on the wall. Do they have any meaning? Do they—Mike, listen to me—do they mean…Mike, Mike." But Mike was now breaking down into sobs, leaning over and hiding his head between his legs. "Mike, please—"

"You can't help me!" he sobbed. "You can't help yourself! You can't help anyone because it seeses you! It seeses you and you're all dead. Everyone's dead! Everyone's dead and dead and dead! Oh God, make it go away!" he cried loudly. "Please, make it go away!" And then he started crying so hard that his entire body shook.

The man inside stepped back, put the recorder up to his mouth, and said, "Subject unresponsive. Terminating interview." He looked through the small window at Swann before returning his look to the man, whose sobs were now audible even through the thick doors. Then the man started saying something through his sobs. Softly at first, but steadily getting louder. To Swann, it sounded like, "Toss no tart rose…toss no tart rose…toss no tart rose…"

"What is he saying?" Swann asked, looking at the doctor. The doctor shook his head.

"We don't know for sure, but he's been repeating it ever since he's been admitted here." the doctor said. "They tell me that the Gateway does not usually have this effect on those who go through it…that this only represents a small minority of those who go through it…"

"We'll see about that." said Swann. "Thank you for your time, Doctor. Now what is the quickest way to Delta Sector?"

-

Joel was awakened from his nap when Emily suddenly sat straight up in bed and gasped loudly. His eyes opened, and he rolled over and saw his wife staring straight ahead, her face paling. She slowly put a hand back to steady herself, and put her other hand to her chest to stop her rapid breathing. Joel sat up to, his brow furrowing in concern. What was wrong with her? "Baby, are you okay?" he asked, gently rubbing her back. "Honey?"

She swallowed hard, and shook her head. "I don't know…" she stammered. "I'm sweating and everything…"

"Bad dream?" Joel asked.

She nodded, looking at him. "It…it was so real, Joel. You know those dreams you get sometimes, where when you wake up, you can't go back to sleep because it felt so real…?"

"What was it?" Joel asked.

"I don't know. I was somewhere, and it was dark, and all I know is I was looking for Megan. She was lost and I could hear her voice, but I couldn't find her. And these red lights kept spinning all around me, and kept hearing these voices say, 'Over here.' or 'Please find me.' or 'Look out.' But I couldn't see anyone, and the further I went, I could smell something burning…and then I saw Megan through the darkness. I stooped down to pick her up and she was crying…" Emily took a deep breath. "And then her face suddenly exploded. I could feel the warmth of her blood on my face, Joel…" Tears started welling up in her eyes, and she covered her mouth.

Joel felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Emily never had nightmares, especially not nightmares that could make her cry. He said, "Where did you ever get something like that into your head?"

"…but then something…" she took a deep breath. "Something came out of the stump of her neck…and I tried to scream, but it was a head. It was her head, and it was on fire…its eyes were completely white…a-and it had long, sharp teeth. Joel, you don't understand. I _felt_ the heat of the fire on my face, and then it said something to me…it said, 'Ta'ash na Tartaros.' I didn't hear it say that clearly, but somehow I knew that was what it said. It said something, I remembered it. And then it opened its mouth, and I could see the stump of its neck down it's throat…and then it screamed a loud, shriek…it woke me up…" She then took a deep breath, and kept her tears from spilling over the edges of her eyelids. "I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep, Joel…"

Joel swallowed. "I don't know what to say, Emily. I think we've been apart for too long. I think—"

Emily put a hand to her face, and then she shuddered. Then she interrupted Joel by putting her hand on his cheek. And Joel's heart skipped a beat in his chest. He jerked away as if she had jabbed him with something sharp, and put a hand to his own face. Then she shook her head. "It was so real…" she whispered.

And Joel no longer doubted her. There had been a warm, wet sensation that transferred to him as soon as he'd touched her. And the feeling was not a pleasant one. "What was that?" he asked her.

"What was what?" she asked. "You looked feverish for a second, honey." she said. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I…um…" Joel said. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just thought I…never mind."

-

Steve and Megan walked into the bar that was located on the main living center. The daylight was gone, but the artificial lights around the huge window had snapped on. Most of the tables in bar were empty; most shifts weren't over for another hour. The air in the bar was cold because of the whispering air units that lined the walls, and the only other sound was the TV on the wall that was turned down to a whisper. The only person in the bar was a brown haired, chubby fellow cleaning a glass the old fashioned way with a white rag. His eyebrows perked up as the automatic doors slid open, and the two entered. Immediately the bartender stood up behind the counter, and said, "Steve?"

"Ronnie." Steve replied. "I want you to meet a friend of mine." He watched the man's surprised reaction when set down the glass and bent over the counter. He squinted at Megan, and then looked at Steve.

"Who is this?"

"Joel's daughter, son." Steve replied. "You know Joel?"

"I'll be da—um darned." Ronnie said, catching himself after Steve sent him a sharp stare. "So the request went through?"

"That's right." Steve said, looking at her. "And I'm her buddy till mom and dad are done catching up on things."

"The UAC actually did something decent for its employees? They must be getting desperate after what happened just recently." Ronnie replied. "So…what I can I do for you two tonight, today, whatever. The time on this planet is so messed up."

"How about two chocolate milks?" Steve said. "Lord knows you ain't served one of them in a long while."

"No booze? Good choice, my friend. A lot of the guys are having their drinks flat nowadays so they won't be outta whack when their shift comes around. You heard about what happened to Lucas, right?" Ronnie asked, momentarily disappearing under the counter. "Sad story. I'm sure Staff Sergeant Eland has already filled you in on that, though."

"M-hm." Steve said, walking towards the counter. He looked down at Megan again. "Want to sit up here with me, miss?"

She nodded enthusiastically, and he lifted her up onto one of the stools to sit at the counter. Ronnie smiled at her. "Hey, there. What's your name?"

"Megan!" she said, putting her hands on the counter.

"Well, ma'am. How would you—"

-

"Joel, did you hear that?" Emily asked, sitting up.

"Hear wha—"

-

"Why isn't my satellite cell working?" Swann asked as he walked down the hallway. "Campbell, let me see your—"

-

And in the instant that followed, all the power in Mars city went down. A satellite orbiting the planet intensified its magnification as it noticed an entire section of Mars' surface disappear as all the lights went out, everywhere in facility. Then it zoomed out again and refocused to capture what happened next. For a brief instant, the far side of the facility gleamed blood red, and the satellite's built-in seismometers suddenly skyrocket as a shockwave that matched the intensity of a hydrogen warhead detonation suddenly exploded from the glowing red point and traveled across the entire facility.

The sun, which had been gleaming proudly from the other side of planet, now slipped from a blinding sliver into a dull glow behind the Red Planet, outlining its figure in the infinite vacuum of space.

And Mars City was plunged into total darkness.


	5. Worse Than Death

Chapter Four: Worse Than Death

Joel and Emily were thrown violently from their beds, sending them sprawling across the floor. Joel felt a dull pain in his ribcage as he landed hard on his laptop, his leg still caught in his bed sheets. He heard his wife scream as her form landed near his, colliding with the door to his bathroom. Then the floor started to shake violently. Emily screamed.

But Joel did not get a chance to say anything before the room was suddenly plunged into total darkness despite the faint light still outside. For a second, he could not even see in front of his face. He put his hands on the floor to push himself to his feet, but then something happened that he could not explain.

A thick trail of deep orange lights suddenly webbed its way across the floor under his hands. The lights moved with the fluidity of water but with the motion of a serpent crawling across the desert floor as they branch outside and slowly went to cover the walls. Joel watched in stupefied amazement as the lights formed intricate patterns and symbols that he could not interpret. They gleamed sharply in the pitch blackness, and kept winding their way around until the entire room was covered in a terrifying display of hellish lights. He felt a tingling sensation in his hands as the lights pulsed rapidly. And then—

"_RRREEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!_"An inhuman, earsplitting shriek consumed him. It literally traveled through him, rattling his bones, and making his ears buzz. He then cried out, and put his hands to his ears. It was so loud…

Emily screamed again, but Joel could no longer see her in the darkness. What was going on! He knew he must be having a nightmare. He had to be. This couldn't be real…this couldn't be real…

But then all of a sudden, the scream abruptly ceased. The lights that had covered the entire room flashed brightly and disappeared, and normal light started to slowly return. Then Joel gasped, realizing he'd been holding his breath the entire time. He took his hands off of his ears, and put a hand to his chest. His heart was pounding. He turned his trembling head towards Emily. She was lying on the floor, covering her head and whimpering. Her eyes were tightly shut. But slowly she opened them, and looked at Joel. "What was…?" she whispered. "Joel, that scream…it was the same one in my dream…"

"Emily, calm d—" Joel began, but then the floor shifted again under their bodies. Emily screamed again, and her hands immediately went to her head. But then the tremor faded. "Emily…" Joel tried again. But this time he was interrupted by another voice.

"Main system power failure!" an alarmed voice declared over the PA. "Emergency! All systems shut down in sectors Alpha Sector, Beta Center, Delta Labs. All marine report immediately to Marine HQ! I repeat—"

"Secondary power systems enga—" Another voice cut the other one off.

"Secondary system power failure." the second voice amended.

"Tertiary servomotors online. All personnel—" yet another voice announced. But then that one stopped as well. The Joel heard a loud hum slowly die outside in the hallway. The power was going out.

"Joel, what's going on!" Emily cried. "What's wrong!"

"I have no idea." Joel said slowly, shaking is head. "Get your clothes on. We have to find out. We have to find out…"

"Oh my God!" Emily cried. "Joel! Where's Megan!"

-

Steve Hammer had already picked himself up off the floor. He was clutching a crying Megan in his arms tightly. The lights in the bar were still flickering, but the room was lit by something else. "God have mercy…" Steve whispered as he watched the scene in helpless horror.

He did not know if he was hallucinating or not, or he had just gone completely insane from the shock of the impact and the writings that had written themselves across the walls, floors, and ceilings. But he knew he could feel Megan's little heart thudding in her chest and hear her cries. Whether or not this was real, it would be foolish to believe anything else. His hand instinctively went to cover her eyes from the scene before her as he said, "Sweet Jesus…"

A flaming, almost transparent skull and drifted its way into the room only seconds after the writing had vanished. Then, soundlessly, it had flung itself at a stunned Ronnie. And then it had gone down his throat, its fiery tail lingering above his lips. Steve watched in horror, as the man suddenly lifted off of the ground. Even from where he was, Steve could hear the man gagging.

The bartender's chubby fingers grasped desperately for something in midair, his legs kicking desperately. "Help me…" he gurgled out, his eyes fleeting for an instant to Steve's. But Steve could not move. Only watch in horror. Then the worst happened.

There was a sickening crunch as Ronnie's head snapped backwards at an impossible angle, and suddenly his fingers stop twitching. But the body continued to float in midair. Megan began to cry louder, pressing her head against Steve's armored chest. Then, whatever force had caused this horrific scene, unceremoniously dumped the body to the floor behind the counter with a loud thud.

Steve swallowed hard. "Shhhh…" he hissed shakily to Megan, trying in vain to calm her down. But with his other hand, he reached for his pistol. This wasn't over. It couldn't be. He closed around the butt of it, drawing it slowly.

And that's why we grabbed Megan and stood up when he heard shuffling behind the counter. He held the girl close to him, his palm already slick with sweat. But his aim was steady, trained from years of experience. And as shocked as he was he was not afraid. He knew that the feeling would dilute his senses and block out what he needed to feel. And Megan needed to know he was confident. It was still almost pitch black, but there was still shuffling behind the counter. "Ronnie!" Steve barked, making Megan cringe. And to his surprise, a hand shot up from behind the counter and grabbed the edge of it, clumsily wrapping its fingers tighter around the lip. But Steve made no motion to approach. He kept his pistol trained on the darkness.

And when Ronnie rose, Steve made no move to put down his gun. Megan, who slowly turned her head to take a peek, screamed and buried her head back against Steve's chest. And part of Steve wished he could have done the same. It was Ronnie's body to say the very least. But in the dark, Steve could his illuminant, beady white eyes. They were glazed over, staring at him and yet at nothing out into the darkness. Steve stepped backwards are Ronnie's jaw unhinged, hanging slack inside of his head. His tongue rolled out, and his arms were still clumsily swinging at the air as if he was reaching for something. And his skin was slowly turning white, paling in the darkness.

Megan screamed again before she started crying, and Steve snapped out of his stupor. "Ronnie! What in blazes are you—!"

"_Life!" _a voice echoed in Steve's mind. He looked at Ronnie, and saw the corners of the man's lips had turned upward into a sick grin. But his jaw was still hanging open. Steve leveled his pistol at Ronnie's head. Then Ronnie made a gurgling noise in his throat, and grasped at Steve.

And then Steve knew there was nothing in that body. At least nothing alive. It…it wasn't alive. It couldn't be, and Megan's little heart thudding her chest assured him that whatever this thing was, it wasn't human anymore. He pointed at the thing's chest, and fired.

The shot drowned out Megan's scream, the loud snap of the pistol instantly filling the room. The shot sent he body recoiling back into the counter, knocking over glass and bottles to the floor, creating a loud shattering noise. But the thing got up, it's smile even broader, the light in its dead eyes gleaming even brighter. He fired once more, but this time he aimed for its head.

The ensuing, sordid lobotomy was nothing that Steve ever wanted to see again. The hollow point bullet blew the top of its head clean off, and sent a mop of dark hair flying into the cabinets behind it with a sick _splat! _Purple-red specks of its brain and skull splattered the wall behind it, and as for the thing itself, it fell backwards again into the cabinets with a loud clang. Then it sunk to the floor, but this time, it did not get up. A loud sigh exited its body. Then a sickening stillness fell over the bar. Steve watched as it disappeared into the darkness. "I'm…I'm sorry, Megan…" he said. "I'm sorry…"

"Is it gone?" she whimpered, her sobs quieting a little. "I don't wanna see it! Is it gone!"

"Steve took care of it." he whispered. "That thing won't bother you no more…"

"This isn't fun…" she said, sniffing loudly. "This isn't fun…"

The smoke from the end of his pistol drifted away, disappearing into the darkness. He held her closer, rocking her gently like he used to do with his daughter once upon a time. He held her tight, and said, "Mr. Steve is just as surprised as you are, ma'am. Lord knows it's true…"

But he knew that couldn't be it. He couldn't explain it, but the feeling was still here. This room reeked of death and decay, twisting his stomach into a knot. Whatever this was, it was just getting started. He looked out towards the door where they came from. The door's power panel was still flashing green. It was open. He did not know if it was safe to go out, but not going was worse than nothing. _Life, _Steve thought, _is exactly what I intend to keep, whatever you are. And that's no empty promise._

-

McDonough and Ricks slung their machine guns out in front of themselves, and fired at the moving shadows in the dark. Both of them had been heading for their rooms when suddenly all this crazy shit suddenly happened, throwing both of them off of their feet. And now metal panels were popping off the walls like some freak earthquake, gas was hissing out, and they couldn't see a goddamned thing. But they had taken out their flashlights, strapping them to their guns. Now the small circles of light in front of them were their only source of light since the overhead skylights revealed nothing but the dark Martian night. And they weren't firing for any reason, either. Already, they'd both seen these ghost heads flying around and into people's room. Then all of a sudden, these people would burst from their rooms…and would run at them. McDonough had only had to see that glow in their eyes to know that they meant to rip his head off. And, with the terror that filled him now, it's all he needed to know. He didn't' care how this had happened, but he was booking it to Marine HQ on the double.

They both heard a screech in the darkness behind them, so they kept running. McDonough heard Ricks throw an empty cartridge behind him and slap a new one into his machine gun. "Eat this!" he shouted, pointing his gun behind him, and firing randomly into the darkness, lighting up the floor and walls with glaring flashes of light and loud noise.

McDonough looked back into the halo of light Ricks had created, and saw another panel fly off of the metal walls with a loud clang. He also saw the spark of bullets as Ricks wasted yet another clip on the darkness.

But he was brought to a sudden stop as he ran into something tall and soft. He heard a collection of screams as he and whoever he'd run into were thrown to the floor by the force of his collision. Ricks, who had fallen behind, suddenly turned, pointing the gun ahead of him again. "Freeze!" he shouted, hand already on the trigger.

"No!" a familiar voice cried. McDonough shook his head and looked in the darkness. He couldn't tell who it was, but he saw a hand go up. "We're friendlies! What're you pointing that flashlight in my eyes for, Ricks!"

"Oh, man!" Rocks said, putting down his gun for a second. "Joel, is that you?"

Another light went on in the darkness, revealing the figure. It was indeed Joel, and some chick. He was wearing a suit of armor and carrying a shotgun in one hand, a flashlight in the other. The chick was wearing an oversized shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Both of them were sitting on the floor, panting, and looking as scared as McDonough felt. "Yes, it's me! Who else would it be! Stop waving that gun around, damn it! What the hell's going on!"

"Damned if I know!" Ricks said, his voice on edge. "But did you see that weird writing shit! And those ghosts! Jesus Christ, I'm going to go insane if—"

"Shut up!" McDonough finally broke in. "Listen, we got to get to Marine HQ! They've got all those intel satellites. They know what's going on here! We've already killed some guys here who looked…shit, I don't know, man!"

"That was you two firing?" Joel said. "You guys are stupider than I thought. And now you run into me! Why are you shooting at our goddamned soldiers! They can help us—"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, we know what we saw!" Ricks exploded angrily, scrambling to his feet. "Yeah, we already killed some of our guys! But you haven't seen these guys, Joel! These guys…I saw Harris, man, and I know Harris would definitely stop running at me with a razor after taking forty fuckin' shots to the chest! And I don't know about you, but I'm heading to MHQ now! You and your bitch can stand there and reason with whatever the hell's back there!" He thrust his gun back towards the darkness behind them. "But you would have shot too, Joel! You would have fuckin' shot too!"

For a minute, the only sound was everyone's heavy breathing. Then Joel swallowed hard, and said, "Fine…fine. You guys go ahead! My daughter's somewhere in this base, and I'm not going to lose her to a freak accident!"

"Shit, man! What the hell—your _daughter_!" McDonough exclaimed. "Jesus Christ, what did I miss over the past few days!"

"It don't matter now!" Ricks said, slapping his partner on the shoulder. "But we need to get to command. Now. They'll know what's going on…"

"Did anyone bring their radio!" Joel demanded. Ricks looked at McDonough, and exchanged glances that revealed the obvious answer to that question. The Joel went off again. "Geez! Am I the only one who does his job around here!"

"I don't have time for this bullshit." McDonough said, and began trotting off. Ricks watched in amazement as he shrugged past the chick and started walking away. "Aren't you coming, _bud_!" McDonough challenged, pausing only briefly before continuing on. Ricks looked at Joel, and looked at the gradually disappearing figure of McDonough. He watched as his friend slid into the nothingness, and he was left standing with Joel and the chick, the incandescence of his flashlight and Joel's wobbling and wavering as it cast a dull portal of light that gleamed harshly n the metal walls.

There was a moment of silence as all stopped to catch their breath, and finally Joel dipped his head and swallowed. "Listen…"

And they all turned and looked back into the darkness. Sure enough, there was the click-clang of feet on the metal tiling somewhere in the vacuum of nothingness. It sounded distant, but it grew louder and traveled up and down the walls as if there was something climbing on it. A floor panel vibrated as the click-clang suddenly stopped, followed by a heavy thud. Ricks wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaky hand, and he felt the muscles in his neck twitch as he clenched his jaw. He turned, his flashlight slowly creeping along the ground as he moved. The small circle of light in front of him was his only clue as to what was back there. But he froze again as the footsteps returned, but they were heavier now, the click-clang morphing into a thudding noise. Ricks slowly raised his rifle, staring straight into blackness where he last heard the sound.

But there was n—

_WHUMP!_

The chick screamed, and a suddenly a huge shadow flitted over the group. Ricks felt all of his internal bodily functions halt for a moment, but his body kept moving. He spun and immediately pointed his gun at the ceiling, numbly firing off a burst at the quick movement. There was a cacophonous racket as his gun fired, creating an epileptic nightmare in the confined space. But his common sense suddenly snapped back in to his head as he stared at the dented, blackened, pockmarked scar that his bullets had left on the ceiling. The thing had already come and gone.

He looked over. Joel had raised his shotgun, and was pointing it at the ceiling too. The chick was clutching her arms around his raised, knees knocking together. But he finally looked at Ricks also, and nodded. "I…I think we better keep moving." And that suggestion was unanimously decided as they lowered their guns and, slowly but surely, started creeping the way McDonough had gone. The chick did not let go of Joel's waist, but just held on tighter. He put his free arm around her reassuringly.

Ricks cast his eyes back to the darkness behind them for the last time. But he dared not wait for something else to happen. Because whatever went bump in the night was eventually bound to get tired of bumping. He turned to the path ahead. The elevator was 75 meters ahead. If they were lucky, they might catch up with McDonough as well. But it was much too early to hope for the best.


End file.
